‘Yes, but I bet it’s not her awards you picture when you think of her,’ she teased.
No, he didn’t, but for some reason with Carly standing in front of him with shafts of sunlight striking her hair he couldn’t bring any other woman to mind.
‘You think?’ he said.
She laughed and Dare grabbed her and dragged her up onto her toes in the middle of a busy street, forked his hands in her hair and kissed her.
After that they headed to his apartment. Made love.
He couldn’t get enough of her and if he had enough brain cells left in his head he’d probably be worried about that.
‘How can you have black coffee when you have this wicked-looking machine that can probably grow the beans, collect them, and roast them at the same time?’ she asked.
She was wearing one of his T-shirts and he’d bet nothing underneath. He loved it when she did that.
‘I like top-shelf stuff,’ he said, thinking of her.
She perched on the edge of a stool. ‘Because you never had it growing up?’
They’d talked a bit about his childhood. Nothing too drastic, just where he’d gone to school, how he’d had to work hard to put himself through college, his first car—a 1990 Mazda RX-7 he’d been so proud of at the time. But things he’d never discussed with anyone before.
‘Yeah, I suppose so.’ He gave her a quick smile. ‘You might not believe this but I was a scrawny kid when I was younger, always coming from the bottom.’
‘Oh, I bet you liked that!’ She laughed.
He grinned. ‘I might have gotten my head punched in a few times when guys tried to push me around about it.’
‘What did your dad say? Did he step in and threaten to do the same to them?’
Dare’s grin slipped a notch. ‘My father wasn’t around much.’
‘Why not?’
‘He was a dreamer.’
‘A dreamer?’
Dare nearly laughed. Saying his father was a dreamer was putting it mildly. And part of him wanted to tell her everything. Tell her how he had looked up to his father, believing in him right up until his death, tell her how he had defended his father in the schoolyard, tell her how bitterly disappointed he was to find out that he was just a liar. But the words stuck like a block of cement in his throat.
And why sully the moment by rehashing the past? Especially when she was looking at him the way she was. All big-eyed and soft-mouthed.
‘He’s not worth talking about,’ he said, pouring the coffee.
‘Is he still alive?’
‘No. He died when I was fifteen. Here,’ he announced with a masculine flourish. ‘One girlie coffee for your tasting pleasure. Tell me that isn’t the best coffee you’ve ever tasted in your life.’
Carly knew Dare was deliberately changing the subject and she told herself it didn’t mean anything.
Giving him a quick smile, she forced herself to sip the warm liquid. It really was good. She blinked up at him, wondering if there was anything he couldn’t do well. ‘Mmm...’ She rolled her lips together, savouring the taste. ‘You’re right, it is good. But the best...’ She took another sip. Licked her lips again.
Dare stared at her mouth. ‘Now you’ve done it,’ he said, coming around to her side of the counter.
‘Done what?’ Carly asked innocently.
‘Gone and made something hard,’ he growled, lifting her onto the benchtop. ‘And seeing as how you’re a doctor and all, you might like to take a look. Give me your professional opinion.’
‘My professional opinion, huh?’ Carly reached down and cupped him in her hand. Dare groaned.
She frowned at him. ‘Hmm, my professional opinion is that you really should do something about that.’ She tapped her finger to her lips. ‘I’m just not sure what.’
Dare lifted his shirt to her waist. ‘Here, I have an idea.’
* * *
A faint stream of early morning sunlight woke her and once more Carly’s internal muscles cramped pleasurably as she moved. This time, however, instead of waking alone she found Dare still with her, sprawled out on his back, one arm flung over his head, the other curled beneath her neck.
Carefully, so she didn’t wake him, Carly rose up on her elbow and looked down at him.